


Now you See Me, Now you Don't

by Lina_Love



Series: Eddsworld Bullshit [8]
Category: Eddsworld - All Media Types
Genre: Aftercare, Blindfolds, Blow Jobs, Bottom tord, Gatorade stay hydrated, Hand Jobs, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Pet Names, Porn with Feelings, Post sex cuddles, Subspace, Top Tom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-01
Updated: 2020-08-01
Packaged: 2021-03-06 08:02:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,942
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25639951
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lina_Love/pseuds/Lina_Love
Summary: More of my weird Tom/Tord stuffTord wears a blindfold and gives a blowie.Good dom etiquette 0;))
Relationships: Tom/Tord (Eddsworld)
Series: Eddsworld Bullshit [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1796059
Comments: 8
Kudos: 72





	Now you See Me, Now you Don't

**Author's Note:**

> I really am getting sucked into all of this. These works can honestly all be read separately but there's some loose connection and grown if they're read in order.
> 
> The characters kind of grow for me and it's hard to start from a fresh slate everytime.
> 
> But let's be proud for these two, they're no longer denying they're gay for each other and learning to practice safe dom/sub sexy times !!!

Ｎｏｗ Ｙｏｕ Ｓｅｅ Ｍｅ ， Ｎｏｗ Ｙｏｕ Ｄｏｎ＇ｔ ;

ＴｏｍＴｏｒｄ

Blindfolded / Oral

The gentle kiss of the silk blindfold against Tord's skin left gentle goosebumps trailing up the back of his neck. It was oddly cool against his flesh, and as it was joined by one of Tom's hands caressing the side of his face, warm and solid, a low, breathy sigh was pulled from the Norwegian.

The darkness enveloping his world was a solid reminder that this was something they had chosen to do, something they actively took their time considering and talking about.

Tord had admitted, with a bashful expression and full fledged pout, that he enjoyed the moments of being under, safe in his mind, lingering in every pleasurable touch and every command he was given.

And in turn, Tom had confessed that he quite enjoyed the control he was able to have. That the sight of Tord, helpless and begging, was one of the biggest turn ons in the world.

This would be the first time that they went into this knowing that it would turn into a scene together. 

The agreement was to start all of this off slowly, and Tom's suggestion of a simple blindfold along with what they normally do was met with a wonderful reception.

An easy way to ease Tord into being more familiar and comfortable with sinking into subspace.

"You remember our word, right?"

Tom's voice was exactly where Tord pictured him to be, from his fingers against his cheek, his legs straddling his head from where he knelt on the ground below. Even without his sight, he could feel those black eyes peering into him.

The right corner of his lip twitched up into an amused grin, a low hum rumbling from the back of his throat.

"Rainbow."

A sharp sound cracked through the air, a slap against Tord's cheek. More loud than it was hard but, Tom was still rewarded with a sharp intake of air that was more from shock than anything else.

"Rainbow what?"

Oh. Right. He'd forgotten about that part of their talk.

"Rainbow, . . . Sir."

The word was hard to get off his tongue, a little humiliating, but the heat it caused in his stomach was a tell of his attraction to this new addition to their power dynamics.

It would be easier to get out of him in time, but for now, the humiliation was enough to drive Tord forward into arousal without even really having started.

"That's better."

Tom's praise was emphasized with a gentle kiss to the top of Tord's head. An arm hung down, hand resting against his shoulder and rubbing in a comforting manner. Another soft sigh came as Tord relaxed more comfortably onto the floor beneath him.

Everything but Tord's boxers had already been removed and folded carefully in the corner in preparation for the small and simple scene they'd set up.

A red hoodie sat like a precious treasure atop a mass of black clothing.

There was a delighted little hum from the Brit as his hands were taken away, only to have Tord's face scrunching up in slight irritation that he couldn't map out where he was in his world of darkness.

The Norwegian's shoulders jumped when his hands settled in meticulously styled hair. Gently, fingers moved to thread through his hair simply to watch Tord sink farther into a relaxed state, only to shift his direction quickly. His fingers gripped down, tugging harshly to yank Tord's head to the side.

He reveled in the shocked, loud moan that sent a shiver through Tord's body, chest tensing as he bit the inside of his cheek.

He was always so receptive and so responsive, Tom knew that it wouldn't take much to ease Tord into a more flexible mindset.

It was one of Tom's favorite parts about this new found arrangement. With Tord knowing what he craved, he was so willing to work on relaxing his body and mind.

Fingers trailed down from his head, down his neck, touch feather light, enjoying the way Tord's skin jumped as he fought to lean into the contact.

"Naughty. I know you remember I like it when you're still "

Another brutal tug to the ginger locks came along with a shocked, drawn out groan dripping from his lips, not expecting the same delightful bit of pain so close to the last. Each thing was coming as a surprise. 

Usually, Tord prided himself on being able to read people and situations. He had assumed that even without his sight, he'd be able to map out Tom's movements.

Was he ever wrong, and the feeling of helplessness settled like liquid heat in his guts.

The arousal twinned with the knowledge that he did remember the fact that Tom liked him to be still, to be out of his own control and vulnerable to be moved in any way Tom decided to dictate.

His response was a soft, "Sorry, sir," the title easier to get out this time around, and it didn't go unnoticed by Tom.

Tom grinned to himself, his hand moving down, slow as anything, and Tord's mind reeled with where it could be going. It settled on the back of his neck, warm and grounding.

Another pleasant buzz of emptiness seeped into his mind at the contact.

Relaxation spread through his veins, brain fuzzy.

The sudden contact of Tom's foot pressing against the bulge in his boxers had him fighting against the urge to roll his hips up, biting harder against the inside of his cheek. He knew that if he stayed patient, he'd be rewarded for his efforts.

Still, he couldn't help the small whimper that was dragged from his throat as the pressure against him increased. His hands slinked down to settle on his thighs, breathing growing more erratic as he forced himself to follow his instruction to stay motionless.

His muscles twitched beneath his skin, as if to move or reach out his arms. To feel around, for his hands to be his eyes so he could at the very least anticipate Tom's next move. 

The total lack of control combined with the shift of a socked foot rubbing against his covered member had him reeling within the confines of his own mind, and another strained whimper fell through lips that were pursed into a harsh firm line.

"Oh. You like that, huh? You'll just take anything you can get. We joke about it a lot, but holy shit, you are one weird little whore."

The words came slowly, as if testing the waters of something they hadn't quite discussed.

It seemed that he'd hit the nail right on the head though, because the words were emphasized with a strung out, needy whine.

Tom was sure that Tord wasn't even aware of where he was, much less of the sounds he was making, but with a small smile, he stored the new found kink away to bring up later.

"Yeah. That's it, just let go and let me take care of you. You're useless for anything other than this. You like to think you're so smart, so high and fucking mighty, but you're sitting here and just taking what I give you.

Like a bitch."

His foot pressed down a bit harder before he moved it away, causing Tord's hand to jolt out to grip onto Tom's pant leg -- close to missing without sight to aid him, but the tips of his fingers brushed the edge of black denim.

"Don't stop, come on--!"

A shocked, pained little grunt was torn from the Norwegian when his face was grabbed in a large hand, cheeks being squeezed together harshly.

Tord attempted to jerk back, only to be dragged forward to his original place between Tom's legs.

"What did I say about moving?"

"I don't --"

Tom's fingers tightened, digging into the hollow of Tord's cheeks, cutting the foreigner off once more.

"What did I say about moving?"

There was a moment of reprise as Tord struggled to sift through the logical part of his mind that was struggling to hold onto the last bit of reality his body could take at the moment, and the part that was taking over, the part that wanted nothing more than to submit entirely to the source of dominance above him.

He decided full submission would feel better, so he stopped struggling against the last bits of the real world that tried to slither in through a blindfold and self importance.

There was a breathy sort of sigh as he exhaled, trying a new response in lieu of his previous one.

"You told me not to move.'

There was a brief moment of silence between the pair, Tom patiently waiting for his title to be added to the end of Tord's statement, and when one too many seconds passed, the Brit gave a reminding little tap to Tord's nose as he released his face from his iron grip.

As Tord experimentally moved his jaw to ease the tension there, a single word parted through his lips.

"Sir."

The word came out like sex personified, coated in a wave of lust, eagerness, love, and trust.

And that word broke both Tom's and Tord's resolve completely.

The last snap to the string tethering Tord to the moment at hand, eyes still open beneath his blindfold growing glassy, his hand falling where they had moved out of turn to rest against his thighs, obedient and waiting.

Above him, a full body shudder raked through Tom at hearing the word fall so perfectly from a favored pair of lips. Pride and arousal ran through his veins.

"Good boy. Very good. You know what? I'm going to give you a reward for that. Do you want that?"

The hand that came down to cradle the side of his face was unexpected, but welcome, warm and grounding, and Tord eagerly leaned into the affection, desperate for it.

Eyes blocked to the world slipping shut by nature and he grew more and more comfortable.

Deep within himself, Tord knew that he wouldn't be able to find his voice, so instead, he slowly bobbed his head up and down within that soft hold to indicate that he was more than willing to receive anything that Tom would want to give to him, trusting that whatever it was would feel amazing.

He had been good, and Tom had already shown him that if he remained at least somewhat behaved, he'd be rewarded with some of the best orgasms of his young life.

Tord felt Tom's hand move down his face, thumb hooking against a plump lower lip.

The pressure there caused a confused, inquisitive hum from the Norwegian.

"You remember our word, don't you, little fireball?"

A soft form of continued consent before they got into the real nasty bit. It was more for Tom's own sake of mind, wanting to be triple sure that Tord still wanted to go forward even after he had fallen head first into his special, submissive headset.

Tom was patient with the man settled beneath him, finger gently playing with and tracing soft patterns against the lip his finger was rested on.

Eventually, Tord managed to find his voice.

"Yeah. It's rainbow."

"There's my perfect boy. Remember to use it if it gets to be too much "

Tord melted into the praise, head tilting up as if he could look through his blindfold to see the way Tom must be gazing down at him. Happy and full of adoration.

"Head's going in the wrong direction."

The sound of Tom's fly being unzipped was louder than usual, Tord's senses heightened from the loss of one.

But it didn't take much more to make Tord realize what the rest of this night would consist of.

As his arms jolted to move up and help, he was stopped by the soft, warning, 'Tsk,' that came from above.

"I just need you to sit there and be open and pretty for me. That's all you're good for, remember?"

It didn't take much more than that to have Tord settling back into the blackness of his own peaceful, little world.

Pale fingers worked deftly to unzip his fly completely, raising his hips so he could shimmy out of his jeans and boxers enough to free his already hardened cock.

Tom's fingers wrapped around his own shaft to give it a steady few more pumps regardless of his own arousal, before pressing his thumb down on Tord's lower lip once more.

"Open."

Pliant and willing, plush red lips parted, shoulders rolling back into a relaxed state to create a more submissive stance.

The feeling of Tom's tip passing into his mouth was a feeling that was indescribable. The weight on his tongue contrasted with the weight over his eyes and the lightness in his head.

The smell of Tom -- Irish Spring, leather, and salt -- made the fog in his mind even thicker.

The soft, pleasure filled hiss as Tom fed his cock into his mouth and towards the back of his throat was like music to his ears.

Overwhelmed from every sense but sight.

He never imagined that giving a blowjob could be such a full body experience, but Tom was clearly determined to prove everything he believed to be wrong.

A warm heat filled Tom's chest, the Brit finally allowing himself a moment to focus on his own pleasure. Tord felt exquisite around him, as always.

He gave a gentle roll of his hips to work himself deeper into Tord's throat, and was rewarded with the small Norwegian moving out of turn once more.

Bemused, he watched as Tord's hands came up to try and rest on his legs once more, indulging Tord as he tried to figure out just what it was Tom expected of him.

He allowed him to suck softly around him, to let him bob his head and set up a slow rhythm.

Orders and plans momentarily put on hold, focusing on the way the tight heat of Tord's mouth made him see stars.

He knew that Tord could take things like this very seriously, took pride in about every little thing he thought was worth his time to do.

And this was no exception.

Even without being able to see most of Tord's face, Tom knew that his face was drawn up in determination.

His breaths became more shallow as he allowed Tord to work him over. While it was indulging Tord, he couldn't deny that this felt absolutely wonderful.

Tord knew how to run his tongue expertly against the vein trailing on the underside of his dick, his lips pulled over his teeth to keep them from scratching uncomfortably over the sensitive flesh.

Each swallow that took him into his throat tore labored breaths from the drunk, and when Tord hallowed his cheeks with a well timed suck, Tom let out a low groan, rolling his hips down to force his dick deeper into Tord's throat, chasing the pleasure.

Tom would have lost himself to the exquisite, talented mouth of the Norwegian if it wasn't for the pleased hum that sent vibrations through his cock, and then his entire body.

It drew him back to the scene they had set up, to the control he was here to keep in an iron grip.

His hand moved down to pull Tord back by his hair, tugging him off his dick.

The obscene string of spit that kept them connected sent another pulse of arousal through his shaft, and the confused little whimper he got only made his pleasure grow.

The black of the silk blindfold hid Tord's eyes, but it didn't hide the growing red flush on his face, the lax opening of his jaw, and he knew that those eyes, should he be able to see them, would be empyy and doll like, silently begging to be allowed to return to the task at hand.

"You know better. I didn't tell you that you could suck me off. You're not even worth that. You're just a pretty hole for me to use, isn't that right?"

The eager nod and needy whine almost made the Brit choke, instead a surepressed groan filled the air.

"There. At least you know that much. Now sit there like you were told to do, while I take what I want from you."

As Tord's hands moved to settle at rest once more, Tom knew that his point had been made.

He used his grip in Tord's hair to pull his head back down and over his dick again. The warmth that was brought back made him sigh in content.

Tord had already had ample opportunity to loosen up and warm up his mouth, so when Tom pulled Tord flush against him, there was little resistance. 

Tord's throat worked wildly around Tom's dick for a moment, but as the smaller man was held there, his small spasms turned to a low whining groan, shuddering beneath Tom.

Eyes hidden in a world of darkness squeezed together harshly, small tears forming as Tom held, held, and held.

When he finally pulled back, Tord's own lewd moan covered the hiss of pleasure that came from Tom.

Fingers dug into the back of Tord's hair, dragging and pulling him up and down on his dick as his hips rolled into the wonderful warmth around him.

The sounds of Tord below him had his head spinning. Fucked out whines and garbled words and sounds that only fizzed into a mess of drool.

The bolts of sheer pleasure within the Brit only turned up to a thousand with the efforts Tord continued to go through with. The other man was shaking beneath him, chest heaving in uneven breaths, yet he still worked to Tom's pleasure.

There were rare sucks and a few well timed swirls of his tongue when Tord could bring himself away from the total assault of his mouth and senses.

The thing that drew Tom to the edge, though, was a well timed whimper tongue swirl combo.

That sound was so full of pleasure, and the fact that all that brought it on was Tord getting his throat fucked.

Tom thought of himself as a strong guy, but even he didn't have the self control to resist that.

"I'm going to cum. You don't have to swallow, but…"

For a moment, Tom's words were cut off by a low, powerful groan, but he fought through it to continue a quick warning.

"But stay right. The fuck. There."

One more brutal thrust of his hips into Tord's mouth, and he buried himself snuggly in the Norwegian's throat.

One last pathetic suck, and Tom was cumming.

Nails dug into the flesh of Tord's skull, his eyes pinching tight as he rode through his orgasm.

Below him, the foreigner gave another distressed, high pitched sound drawn from his chest, sputtering on cum as Tom pulled him back.

As he coughed out onto the floor, Tom's harsh grip in his hair turned gentle, petting and soothing him through the shock.

As the coughing faded to stuttered breathing, that gentle hand came down to rub at his shoulder comfortingly.

"Hey."

Tom's voice was soft now. Ebbing into Tord's ears and surrounding a vulnerable mindset in warm cotton.

"I'm going to take this mask off now, okay? Then I'll help you out. Is that alright?"

All he got in response was a confused, although agreeable little hum.

"There we go."

As he removed the blindfold, he instantly moved a hand to shield Tord's eyes from the harsh light above them.

The sight he was met with was more exquisite than any piece of art in this entire God forsaken world.

Silver eyes peered up at him, pupils blown, and completely detached from reality. The haziness over them was captivating.

The apples of his cheeks were puffy, matching swollen and abused lips.

Tear tracks marking his face.

"There you are. You're still doing okay, right?"

Tord gave a lazy nod as he leaned into the hand against his head.

"Good. I'm glad to hear it. Let's get you on the bed."

As he expected, there was no resistance as he lifted Tord off the ground to lay on his bed, head falling to rest on a nest of pillows.

As Tom moved his hands away to tuck himself back into his pants, he watched as Tord's eyes fluttered shut.

He looked entirely spent, and it made Tom's heart swell as he settled to lay down beside the other man.

Tom turned the Norwegian's face so he could press his lips against Tord's, giving him a reverent and worshipful kiss, full of positive affection.

Tord melted into it, and as he was distracted with the kiss, Tom moved his hand down to slip beneath Tord's boxers.

The soft, inquisitive sound was met with a soft laugh against the Tord's lips.

"Relax. You were so good for me, let me take care of you now, alright?"

Tord's eyes were hazy as he stared ahead at Tom, but he nodded his head as Tom took him in hand.

His movements were slow, a languid motion and rhythm gentle compared to the treatment he had given him earlier.

Soft huffs and breathy moans passed through Tord's lips as Tom handled him. Tord rolled his hips up slowly, breathing picking up speed as he weakly chased after the intense pleasure that lingered in his skin from before.

As supportive kisses were peppered against his face, Tord found little reason to keep himself from giving into the fire that had been set as soon as the blindfold hit his eyes.

A strained whine signaled his peak, orgasm washing over him as he dribbled weakly into Tom's hand.

He was stroked through the rest of it until his face started to pinch up in discomfort.

"There you are. You were amazing."

Instead of trying to salvage any bit of clothing, Tom pulled Tord's boxers off, wiping his release over the fabric as he tossed it aside.

Planning this out meant a replacement was nearby, and Tord was quickly covered with a clean pair of boxers.

Beside him, Tord was barely there. Already cuddled back into his position of comfort, lax and absent.

He already looked like he was asleep.

Tom grinned to himself, reaching out to grab the bottle of Gatorade that had been set aside.

Planning really was key.

"You know the deal. Rehydrate, then you can sleep."

He was met with a bratty whine, which only drew forward an amused laugh as Tom helped Tord sit up enough to drink.

He held the bottle to his lips, and despite his exhaustion, Tord drank what was tipped back into his mouth.

When about a quarter of the bottle had been finished, Tom hummed out his approval as he closed the bottle and tossed it aside. He took great care in the way he repositioned Tord back onto the bed.

He was quick to follow, and the moment he fell into his usual sleeping space, updated to have Tord curled to his side, his partner was already halfway to sleep, evident by the way his breathing was slowing. How he didn't even make an attempt to pretend he was present in this moment.

As Tom pulled the blankets up to cover them, he pressed one last kiss to Tord's temple as his roommate slipped into sleep.

"You were perfect, fireball. Sleep well. And try not to kick me in the morning, because I swear to God if it happens again I'm going to tie you to this bed and never let you go."

**Author's Note:**

> kudos, comments, ideas, and constructive criticism welcome and appreciated !! 
> 
> ♥️💙♥️💙


End file.
